Never Have I Ever
by the.eye.does.not.SEE
Summary: Tasha unknowingly begins a very loaded game of Never Have I Ever.


_**A/N** : (Part of the_ One Night _universe.) Because you know Tasha had to find out sometime…_

* * *

Kurt went to Jane's thirty-fifth birthday party because he was invited. He went because she was his friend, because it would be odd if he didn't go, and because everyone else he knew was going. But most off all he went because he wanted to silence that voice in his head, that insatiable thought that whirled within his mind like a hurricane, destroying everything else in its path.

 _Maybe it will happen again_.

He never said it aloud. He hardly even let himself think it consciously. But no matter: the thought was there, and it wasn't going away. There was only one way to shut it up, and so he bought her a present, left his apartment, and he went to the party.

He was hardly fifteen minutes late, but the celebration was already in full swing when he arrived; he could hear the music halfway down the block. It was bad music—terrible, current pop—so clearly Patterson had control of the sound system. Kurt wondered how long she'd been at it, and hoped she'd relinquish control soon. Even Sarah's affinity for country music would be better than this.

No one answered the door when he knocked, and after quickly chastising himself to even _bother_ knocking (what friend knocks at a party?), he pushed open the door. He was greeted by a yell of approval from Patterson and Tasha, the first to spot him. Jane was too busy dancing and laughing with Reade to notice his arrival, but Oscar waved at him through the cutout in the kitchen. Kurt waved back, hating how nervous he suddenly felt, and busied himself with depositing his present on top of the others on a side table.

By the time he straightened up, Jane had caught sight of him.

"There you are!"

She grinned at him from across the room, and then attempted to make her way through all the cluttered furniture towards him. It looked like most of it had been shoved aside to create a dancefloor; she ended up having to walk on part of the couch to make it across the room.

He hadn't seen her in some weeks, not since the last time she'd been called into the Bureau to consult. He watched her make her treacherous way towards him and he thought, as he always did when he saw her, about how beautiful she looked these days. How happy.

Life outside the FBI certainly suited her.

"So happy you're here," she called over the music, and before he could say anything back, she leaned up to hug him. When she kissed him hello on the cheek, he tried very hard not to remember the feel of her tongue in his mouth.

 _It's been exactly one year…_

"Drink?" she offered over the din, pulling away, and he nodded mutely, not trusting himself to speak.

She turned around to get him something, but before she took one step, there was her husband, holding out an already opened bottle of beer. At her side, as ever. Anticipating her needs, as ever.

Kurt nodded hello and took the beer from Oscar, downing as much as he could in one go to try and clear his mind. Thinking about all the things that man had sacrificed for his wife would only lead Kurt down a path he was determined not to revisit. He was here to celebrate Jane's birthday, after all, not sate his own insane desires. Or at least, that was what he had to keep reminding himself every five seconds.

When Patterson grabbed his hand and demanded that he dance with her, Kurt didn't protest. He swallowed as much of the beer as he could and let her drag him towards the stereo.

He was a bad dancer, but then, so was Patterson. So was Jane. So was everyone. The only one of them that actually had moves was Tasha, and Kurt thanked God she wasn't drunk enough (yet) to start busting those out.

The next few hours passed as uneventfully as most parties at their age do. There was a lot of drinking, talking, laughing, and dancing. After an hour or so, they turned down the music (they were lucky they cops hadn't ordered them to), moved the furniture back into place, and then they sang Happy Birthday. Jane blushed and fidgeted the entire time, always uncomfortable being the center of attention, and Kurt and the others sang louder on purpose, knowing this, and clapped boisterously in approval when she blew out the candles. The cake was delicious—it turned out Oscar had made it himself—and after they'd all eaten too much, it was time for presents.

As always, Jane protested the fact that they'd all spent money on her, but Kurt could tell she was secretly pleased. Presents were just about the only surprises she enjoyed, and it was lovely to watch her face light up, time and again, as she unwrapped each of the items bought for her. It made Kurt smile to watch, and looking around, he wasn't the only one. Her happiness, once so rare, was now infectious.

Maybe that was why, when Tasha declared they should do birthday shots, Jane didn't protest. She usually wasn't one to knock back the hard alcohol, but then, special occasions were always different. Everyone took a glass—even Kurt, though he hated tequila—and threw them back. The taste was over-sour, but somehow good anyway—Tasha bought only highbrow tequila, and it showed. Kurt didn't feel like vomiting after the first round, and he actually had another.

But he begged off after a third, and thankfully he wasn't alone. Sarah and Reade had given up too, and were even getting to their feet, muttering about finding coats and when the next train would be.

"Oh, come on!" Tasha whined, lashing out to grab onto Reade's ankle as he tried to stand up. "You can't bail! It's barely midnight!"

"Yeah, exactly," he laughed, kicking her off. "We're late to relieve the babysitter as is. We said we'd be back by twelve—"

"We're gonna have to pay her for the extra hour," Sarah yawned, pulling on her coat. "We'll never get back in time."

"So then stay!" Patterson argued. "What's a few more hours to the babysitter? She's getting paid!"

"She's got a curfew herself," Reade replied. "We've gotta get back or else Sawyer will be home alone."

"Sawyer's a big boy, he can take care of himself!"

Reade snorted. "He can burn the house down, too, if we don't keep an eye on him."

Sarah smacked his arm, but she was smiling, smiling that indomitable smile Kurt remembered from so long ago… He looked at the table, counted only six shotglasses instead of seven. He stared for a moment, struggling through the tequila and the beer to put it together.

They were at the door before he managed to speak.

"Talk tomorrow, sis?"

She looked around at his voice, then nodded. There was something in her eye that told him she knew what he was thinking. "Sure, Kurt." She smiled again, then waved goodbye. Both she and Reade hugged Jane before they left, apologizing for heading out so soon. She brushed their _sorry_ s aside, thanked them for coming, and then turned back to the group. There was a halfway guilty smile peeking out, soon overrun by excitement. She had eyes only for Tasha and Patterson.

"Can we turn the music back on now?"

Kurt ended up standing next to Oscar for the next half-hour or so while the women danced. Their talk was interrupted only when Jane dragged her husband away, demanding that he dance with her. Kurt was glad Jane didn't request the same of him. He wasn't used to tequila and it was working fast; he didn't trust himself near her.

Eventually they all tired from dancing, and the music was turned off again. Beers were passed around and they all settled around the coffee table: Jane and Oscar lounging on the couch, Tasha relaxing in the armchair, Patterson laying on the floor, and Kurt on one of the wooden chairs brought over from the kitchen. It was quiet, comfortable. They talked for a while, exchanging old stories that hadn't been shared before, laughing at how much there still was to discover about one's closest friends.

Eventually, as she always did at parties, Patterson fell asleep. Jane laughed when she noticed, though in truth, she looked halfway to sleep herself. She was curled up against her husband, using his chest as a makeshift pillow. Kurt tried not to look at them too much. They'd been laying in a very similar position when he'd left their bed last year.

 _Aren't you ever going to say anything, Kurt?_

He cleared his throat, audibly forcing the memories away.

"Think we should do something about her?" he asked the room, nodding at Patterson.

Tasha waved his concern away. "Let her sleep it off. I'll make sure she gets home safe when I head out."

"And when would that be?" Oscar asked, yawning.

Tasha picked her head up from where it'd been nestled against the back of the armchair. "Excuse me, Brenton? Was that a not-so-subtle way of kicking us out? Is the party over already?"

"No one is getting kicked out," Jane called loudly before her husband could answer. "And the party isn't over! Just ignore him, he's old."

"I'm two years younger than you," Oscar laughed.

"He's no fun."

"I am _plenty_ of fun."

" _None_ of you are _any_ fun," Tasha declared, pushing herself up in her chair. "What are doing here? Nothing! We should be doing _something_. We should turn the music back on—"

Jane shook her head against her husband's chest. "I'm too tired for more dancing, Tasha."

"I wasn't thinking of dancing. I was thinking of playing a game. We should have some background music for it."

" _Ugh_." Jane groaned. "I am _not_ playing board games on my _own birthday,_ Zapata! This is supposed to be a party!"

"Exactly, so we should play party games!" She leaned over the side of her chair and felt around until she had the bottle of tequila. She dropped it on the table triumphantly. "Drinking games, to be more specific."

"Drinking games?" Jane picked her head up from Oscar's chest, curious. "What do you mean?"

Tasha stared at her as if she'd just questioned the existence of gravity. "Has that husband of yours taught you _nothing_?"

Oscar rolled his eyes. "Last I checked, Tasha, drinking games were for college kids, particularly those who weren't attached to their livers. They're not for adults."

"Fine, party-pooper." Tasha stuck out her tongue. "If you're too chickenshit to go hard, then we'll play with beer."

Before anyone could argue, she jumped to her feet, leaped over the still-sleeping Patterson, and headed into the kitchen. She was back in a moment with a couple six-packs and a bottle opener, and before a word was said, she had three bottles open and was passing them around and that was that. They all knew better than to argue with Tasha when she got an idea in her head.

"Fine." Oscar pushed himself up into a sitting position with a groan. "What'll it be, then?"

Tasha smiled at her assembled audience. "Since we've known each other so long, I was thinking… Never Have I Ever."

Both Oscar and Kurt groaned, but Jane leaned forward, intrigued. After Tasha explained the rules, Jane frowned. "But how am I supposed to play? I don't remember the majority of my life."

"Just play on what you remember," Tasha instructed. "Besides, you've got your cheatsheet sitting next to you if you need any fast answers."

Then she held up her right hand and slowly, the rest followed suit. She took a long look at them all before she began.

"Never have I ever… been in the Marines."

"Cheap shot," Oscar muttered sourly, taking a swig, but Tasha only smiled sweetly.

"That's what you get for trying to kick me out of your house, jarhead." Tasha nodded to her left. "You're up, Weller."

He sighed. He hated these sorts of games. If you didn't want to suffer, they required too much strategy, more than he was capable of at this point in the night.

"Never have I ever… Ah…" He racked his brain, trying to think of something. There were a thousand things he'd never done, and yet somehow his mind couldn't hold onto any of them at this particular moment. He stared at the people clustered around him, wondering what it was they all might have in common that he didn't. Eventually, just as Tasha was staring to complain, he came up with something.

"Never have I ever learned a second language fluently."

It was a weak one, considering the game's standards, but he did at least earn points for making everyone else in the circle drink. He let himself have a few celebratory sips, because why the hell not, and then they all turned their attention to Jane.

"Um…" She bit her lip, thinking hard. She tapped her fingers against the side of the beer bottle, her rings setting off a dull clink. After a minute, she stole a glance at her husband, mouthing the word _Help_.

"No, no, no!" Tasha yelled, waving an arm between them. "No helping her, Brenton!"

"But you said he could help me!" Jane protested. "Come on, I've only got six years worth of memories to work with! I'm at a disadvantage here!"

"Six years is more than enough! Weller, back me up here. She can take care of herself."

"I'm sure you can think of something," Kurt offered dutifully. He didn't know exactly why he was supporting Tasha apart from the fact than it was easier to do what she said than to face her wrath.

They all sat and watched as Jane thought, every once in a while shooting desperate glancing at her husband. He smiled calmly in encouragement, nuding her with his elbow whenever she threatened to give up.

Finally, after what Tasha would deem an eternity, Jane managed to settle on a fact she knew for certain.

"Never have I ever had an allergic reaction to something."

When Tasha lowered one of her fingers, Jane smiled triumphantly, pleased at having played the game right. She hadn't even realized Tasha was allergic to anything.

"Shellfish," she supplied after she took her drink, seeing the question in Jane's eyes. "I made that mistake once and never made it again. My tongue swelled up so fast I thought I was going to choke on it and die."

Jane stifled a snicker at the visual, ignoring Tasha's raised middle finger. Then the baton was passed to Oscar, who didn't need even a second to think.

"Never have I ever been to college."

Tasha reached immediately for her beer, and though Kurt knew he should too, he couldn't help but stare.

"Bullshit," he accused.

Oscar looked over, smiling at the accusatory look on Kurt's face. "No, it's true. You've read my file, don't forget. You know I never went. Never even applied."

"But—But—" Kurt knew Oscar was right, and yet it seemed so wrong. He had no argument to the truth except... "But you're so smart!"

Oscar laughed softly. "Thanks, Kurt."

"Why didn't you go to college?" Tasha wondered, polishing off her beer and cracking open another.

"There was nothing I was interested in," Oscar shrugged. "Plus, I'd already decided I wanted to go into the military. I saw no point in bothering to apply. I knew what I was going to do with my life."

They were all quiet for a moment, knowing how far he'd been pulled from that purpose. Kurt had never been in the military, but he could imagine what it might be like to leave such a job behind—he couldn't even think of working anywhere except at the FBI.

"Do you miss it?" Tasha asked quietly.

"I used to," Oscar admitted, staring down at the table between them. "I used to miss it like a lost limb." Jane reached out, taking his hand in hers. He spared her a quick smile, squeezing her hand briefly before looking up at the others. "But things have changed. I've changed. I don't think I could go back now even if they let me."

"Makes sense," Kurt put in. "You know all their dirty laundry."

"True." Oscar nodded. "But that's not all. I, uh, I don't think I'd be suited to the lifestyle much anymore, either. I don't think I can follow orders blindly now like I used to be able to back then. It takes a lot to shut off your own thoughts and do only what your commander's telling you to do. I can't shut my mind off like that anymore."

Kurt nodded, downing the rest of his beer in lieu of speaking. He knew exactly what it felt like not to be able to control your own mind.

"Okay." Tasha clapped her hands, drawing them back into the game. "Away from the light stuff, kids. Round two is about sex."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Jesus Christ, Tash. Grow up."

"Just for that, Weller, you're starting us off."

He muttered under his breath, but he knew better than to question her. He grabbed another beer from the stack Tasha had brought over, took a pull, and then set it on the table.

"Fine. Never have I ever… hooked up with someone in the Bureau's locker room."

He expected to see everyone around him take a drink. He knew it was no secret; junior agents treated the locker room like it was their bedroom. There was a reason he stayed out of it until the younger ones had left; there was a reason he always gave Jane a wide berth on the rare occasions Oscar came by to pick her up.

But neither Jane nor her husband drank. That surprised him a bit. Of all people, he would've assumed they'd had some sort of tryst there, especially after finding out how long they'd been seeing each other secretly.

But what was even more surprising was watching Tasha finish off her beer.

"What?" Jane turned to her in excitement. "When?!"

" _Who_?" Kurt demanded.

"Uh…" Tasha laughed, leaning back in her chair. "I don't remember her name, actually. She was really hot, though. Hence the, you know, locker room." They all stared blankly at her. "Oh, come on!" she cried. "I realize no one here has _done it_ , but you've definitely thought about it, right?" She looked from face to face, growing more annoyed when she noticed they were starting to laugh at her. "Well, you're all losers then!" she snapped. "And you all need to get laid in more exciting ways."

Kurt pointedly kept his eyes on the floor until Tasha tossed the game to Jane.

She grinned at Tasha, no deep thoughts necessary this time around. "You made it easy for me: never have I ever kissed a woman."

"Kissing is hardly sexual," Tasha complained, while Kurt and Oscar took their drinks.

"Maybe not the way you do it," Jane replied with a smirk.

Tasha grinned back, taking her drink. "Touché, Doe." She turned to Oscar. "Brenton, you're up. And you better not take the easy route like your dearly beloved. I want some marital secrets spilled tonight, you hear me?"

Oscar snorted. "Uh-huh, sure, Tasha."

They all waited expectantly, eyes trained on him. Jane's mouth kept flickering into a smile, wondering what he would say. After three years of marriage, she knew plenty about him, yes, but not every little thing. She was excited to hear something new.

"Okay." He folded his hands together. "Never have I ever role-played during sex."

Jane snickered at the idea, looking around the circle. She expected everyone else to laugh too, but Tasha looked thoughtful—and Kurt was taking a drink.

She sat up, eyes wide. "Wait, _really_? You?"

"Oh, don't get excited," Tasha answered for him, waving a dismissive hand. "It's nothing extreme. He and Allie liked to play to play police officer, is all."

Jane frowned, trying to imagine it. "But isn't that… barely role-playing?"

Tasha snorted. "And you wonder why she dumped him."

"Hey!"

Tasha cupped her hands around her mouth. "Newsflash: you're _boring_ , Weller."

"And _you're_ not supposed to know those things, Zapata."

She shrugged, taking her drink. "Allie's got a big mouth." She flashed him a grin. "Though you probably already knew that, didn't you?"

"Screw off."

"Don't be insulted, her reports were mostly complimentary."

"It's your turn," Kurt interrupted. "Will you take your turn already?"

"Only once I've had time to think of something good," Tasha replied. "Be patient."

"No one else got time," Kurt snapped. "Just say something. Go."

"No one else had to talk about your god-awful sex life first, either. I need a break to think of something _actually_ good, and rehashing your vanilla history isn't helping."

"Tasha," Kurt warned. "I want you to think about what you're saying here—"

"And now I _can't_ stop thinking about it," Tasha prattled on, groaning. "I mean, _god_ , how does a forty-something man only have _two_ positions in his repertoire? It's embarrassing, Weller, honestly. I can't believe she stuck around for as long as she did, but then again she did say you were rather handy with your—"

" _Zapata!_ " he barked, his face flaming red with fury.

"I'm complimenting you, Weller, don't interrupt. Now, like I was saying, at least you made her come on a regular basis—that's got to be worth something, right? Who cares if you aren't exciting or spontaneous? Who cares if your fantasies are hardly fantasies? There's just nothing wrong with being boring, Weller, you just have to face the fact that you _are_ boring. You can't pretend that you would ever do anything edgy or—Oh!" Tasha sat up suddenly, beer sloshing over the rim of her bottle, eyes lit with triumph. "I thought of one."

" _Well_?" Kurt bit out, hardly able to keep his voice level.

Tasha raised her bottle once more. "Never have I ever had a threesome!"

Kurt didn't move at first. He didn't dare look at Oscar or Jane. He could feel his face draining of color but he couldn't tear his eyes away from Zapata. What did she know? It had been a full year without any teasing about that night; Kurt had assumed Jane had kept their little secret to himself. And after all that taunting about Allie this evening, he'd _known_ she'd kept the secret to herself, since why would Zapata make fun of a years-old break-up when there was much more humiliating encounters in the recent past?

But then again, why would she bring up threesomes out of the blue like this? With the three of them sitting here?

Kurt could feel his heart hammering as time seemed to slow down around him. He knew it had been a bad idea to come to Jane's party tonight. And why _had_ he come? Because he couldn't stop thinking about what had happened last year? Because he desperately wanted to have a repeat of those hours in that bedroom down the hall? He was insane. He was crazy. He was so fucking stupid—

" _You're shitting me!_ " Tasha cried out, and Kurt jumped in his chair, horrified at whatever it was he'd given away, until he realized Tasha wasn't talking to him. She wasn't even looking at him. She was out of her chair, pointing at Jane and Oscar, who were both drinking, each having lowered a finger. "You two?! What the hell?"

Oscar shrugged casually—as if anything about this were casual—and smiled. "What can I say? Guilty as charged, Agent Zapata."

Tasha sputtered through her disbelief and excitement to demand an explanation from him, but Oscar merely smiled around his beer, his eyes drifting towards Kurt, who did not like the look he saw in them. Jane's husband was playing with fire here and Kurt knew exactly who was going to get burned.

The only thing he didn't know was why he hadn't seen this coming from the very beginning.


End file.
